


If Only

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Canon, Implied Brian Kinney/Michael Novotny (Queer as Folk)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-07-30
Updated: 2003-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-27 09:30:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12078336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Justin never woke up from the coma, Seasons 2 and 3 never happened.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

I take a look around me, at all the joyous people celebrating and I feel happy. More happy than I should be, given the circumstances. But right at this moment I don't give a fuck about the circumstances, all I care about is the young man in my arms. I turn to look at him one more time and find him staring at me with this huge smile on his face. His Sunshine smile. I love that smile. In fact, I love all of him and suddenly I realize that I've loved him for a long time. Of course I've never told him that. This seems like the perfect time to tell him, after all, my whole life has changed and I've broken so many of my rules that one more won't matter, not anymore.

 

So I take a deep breath and open my mouth, ready to confess my feelings, ready to say the words that I know he's been hoping to hear from me for so long...and I can't. 

 

Because, suddenly, he's not standing next to me anymore, he's disappeared and I can't see him anywhere. I shout his name and whirl around, trying to find him. But there are too many people around me, talking, laughing, and I can't hear my own voice calling him. The crowd begins to push me forward, away from the spot we were standing just a few seconds ago and I try to resist, to go back and find him, but I can't fight against all the people surrounding me, they push me farther and farther away. I scream once more, hoping he'll hear me, wherever he is.

"JUSTIN!"

 

And then I wake up.

 

I wake up in my bed and I'm not alone. But the head resting on the pillow next to mine isn't the blond one I always hope to see. This man has dark hair. I know who he is and I can't stop the sudden feelings of resentment and disappointment that come over me. I know it's stupid to feel this way, after all, it's not his fault that things happened this way. 

 

I sit up and climb out of the bed carefully, trying not to disturb the sleeping man. I don't want to talk to him right now, I don't want to have to explain to him why I'm awake. I've managed to keep the dreams a secret from him and I want it to stay that way.

 

The fucking dreams started the very night of the bashing. Michael was there, holding me when I woke up, trembling, on that fucking chair in the hospital. We were waiting to hear news from Justin's doctor. He stayed with me the whole time and I was thankful for his presence. I don't know what I would've done without him. Maybe I would've really jumped off from the ledge of the building this time. Maybe I should've done it.

 

At first the dreams where only about that night, I kept seeing in my mind the moment when Justin's head had been struck and then his body falling to the ground and the blood...fuck, I could see the blood so clearly, I could almost smell it. I was thankful when the dreams changed, they started getting more and more complicated, one could say that they evolved. In my dreams Justin woke up from his coma and we were together again. I dreamed a whole life for ourselves, things that could've happened, things that * should've * happened.

 

Sometimes things that happened to me in my 'real' life would cross over into my dreams, making them seem even more real to me. Like the time Lindsay and Melanie convinced me to go to that damn concert on Justin's birthday in a pathetic attempt to make me forget what day it was. That's where I met Ian, excuse me, Ethan. I disliked the little fucker from the moment I saw him and my disgust for him increased when I found out that the munchers had been telling him about Justin. I was ready to kill him when he told me that he'd actually gone to the hospital once to see Justin. The sleeping beauty he called him. Said he wanted to play for him, that maybe the music would help him wake up. I was so angry that I almost strangled the fucking idiot, Lindsay, noticing how pissed off I was, hurried to drag me away from him while Mel distracted the fiddler. It wasn't very difficult, she only had to praise him about his music and his playing and he soon forgot about everything else. 

 

But as much as I hated the damn fiddler, I would've let him do it, fuck, I would've taken an entire orchestra to the hospital if I'd thought there was the slightest chance that the music would help Justin to wake up. If only things were so easy. If only we were stuck in a stupid fairy tale where all it took to wake the sleeping prince was a kiss from his true love.

 

I tried it. I kissed Justin softly on the lips while I cradled him in my arms and waited for the fucking ambulance to arrive. I must have been really out of my mind then because I truly expected him to open his eyes and smile at me. But of course that didn't happened. He didn't open his eyes and I haven't seen his smile since that night. 

 

After all this is not a fucking fairy tale, this is real life and it's going to take a lot more than a kiss to wake him up. Or maybe the kiss didn't work because I'm not Justin's true love.

 

Fuck, I've got to stop thinking that crap.

 

Anyway, I wasn't really surprised when the fiddler appeared in my dreams, or rather in my nightmares. I became very upset during this period; it was bad enough that Justin was in a coma in the real world but then I even lost the small consolation of having him beside me in my little dream world. I was a fucking wreck and I didn't know how to make things better, I couldn't control the damn dreams and I sure as hell couldn't control things in my life. I tricked even more than usual, paid little attention to my work and I drank until I passed out every night in a pathetic attempt to keep the dreams away. Nothing worked.

 

It was about this time that things between Michael and me started.

 

I don't even remember very well the night we fucked for the first time. It was just another night, I was drunk of course, and he took me home like always. But that night I didn't want to be alone, I didn't want to dream anymore. So I asked him to stay with me and then I think I kissed him. I wasn't even aware of what I was doing, I just wanted to stop feeling so fucking miserable. One thing led to another and soon we were on the bed tearing each other's clothes off. And the next morning he just assumed we were together for good. I should've ended things right then but I was so tired of being alone that I thought that, maybe, this was what I needed to get Justin out of my mind. 

 

Yeah, right.

 

No one, not even Michael, can make me forget Justin, not even for a second.

 

He's helped me a lot, I know wouldn't have make it without his support. But now it's time to end things. It was not good for either of us to continue like this. I love Michael and I always will, but I'm not in love with him and I never will be. I know that with absolute certainty. The only man I could've loved is lying in a fucking hospital bed, dead to the world.

 

I go to my desk and open the drawer. I find what I'm looking for right where I left it last night, carefully hidden under some papers. I don't want Michael to find out about this either. I fucking hate having to hide in my own home but I don't want to hurt him. Although I know I'm going to end up hurting him anyway. I walk towards the couch, my prize clutched securely in my hand, and sit down slowly. 

 

"I would've done it, you know. I would've paid for your tuition, I even would've taken you back if you'd left me for that fucking fiddler. And I would've told you that I love you. If only you'd been here." Shit, I can't believe I'm doing this: I'm sitting on my couch, talking to a photograph taken two years ago. Deb gave it to me, it's the last picture ever taken of Justin. It was taken at Deb's on the same night our whole world changed. Who could've guessed that the handsome young man smiling brightly at the camera would be lying bleeding on the cold pavement just hours after posing for that picture. He looks so damn young, dressed in his tuxedo and his hair combed back like that. 

 

That night, prom night for Justin, had seemed so perfect. I felt so incredibly happy on that dance floor, holding Justin in my arms. Later, while I was sitting inside my jeep watching Justin walk away I couldn't stop smiling. That was the first time I allowed myself to admit what Justin truly meant to me. We'd been so perfect dancing together, things had gone so well, that I should've known something bad was going to happen to fuck up our happiness. I shouldn't have been so surprised when something terrible did happened. Justin almost died and I was alone once again.

 

Well, alone, except for Michael. He didn't leave me for one minute, he even broke things up with David so he could stay here with me. If only Justin had woken up from his coma, like in my dreams, maybe Michael would've left and he and David would still be together. 

 

If only...

 

I still go to the fucking hospital every night, waiting, hoping for Justin to wake up. But he never does. I will continue to visit him without telling anyone, like I been doing so far. Everyone thinks I've forgotten about Justin, and, of course, they think I'm a heartless bastard. But they already thought that anyway. That's fine with me, I don't give a fuck about what they think. I only care about Justin.

 

If only he'd wake up I'd show him how much I've missed and how much I love him.

 

 

In a hospital room, far away from the loft, a young man fought to wake up from the nightmare world he was drowning in and return to life. He knew he had to open his eyes. Someone was waiting for him, someone who told him every night that he had to wake up because he was loved and needed, someone who sounded so desperate that Justin fought harder every night to come out of the darkness.

 

If only he could wake up...


	2. If Only

He thinks I don't know what he does every night. He thinks I don't know about the picture he keeps hidden in his desk. I found it there two weeks ago when I was waiting for him to come out of the shower. I wasn't really snooping, I was just playing with the things on his desk and then I opened a drawer and began to sort through the papers, carefully, because I know how well organized Brian is, he'd notice immediately if something was out of place and I didn't want him to get angry at me. Then I saw it.

I'd seen that picture before because Mom took it so I knew she must have given it to him. I just couldn't believe he'd kept it but I back then I thought that he must have put it in the drawer and just forgotten about it. I almost threw it out but right at that moment I heard Brian coming out of the bathroom so I just quickly put everything back in its place and closed the drawer.

I forgot about the fucking thing... until I finally found out what Brian was doing at nights. The first time I woke up and he wasn't in bed I panicked, I thought that he'd gone out to find some trick and then I saw him. He was standing near the desk and he was holding something in his hand. He was staring at the thing so intensely that I watched him quietly for a few seconds instead of calling to him like I intended to do.

Then I realized what it was he was holding, the thing he was staring at. He sighed and bent down to put the picture back in the drawer before he headed to the bedroom. I lied back down and pretended to be asleep. Very carefully, he pulled the covers and lied down next to me. 

I couldn't sleep after that, I was too confused and angry but I didn't confront him. I was just too stunned, I couldn't understand why he'd done that, why he still thought of Justin. I was obviously wrong, he hadn't forgotten about the picture, he knew very well that it was in his desk.

The next morning I didn't mentioned anything and neither did he so I just let it go. I thought that, maybe, this was the first time he'd done that. Now I know better. He's never stopped thinking about Justin and maybe he never will.

I've tried to be there for him, to be everything he wants, to give him everything he needs. But he still thinks of the young, skinny boy he danced with. I don't know why, I was sure that, after some time, he'd forget about him completely. I mean, the kid is almost dead and it's not as if they were a real couple, they were just fuck buddies. I don't understand why Brian still thinks of him. Maybe he just feels guilty.

I've told him many times that what happened wasn't his fault, that there was nothing he could've done to change things. That Hobbs kid was probably planning to hurt Justin since the beginning. I mean, he * was * carrying a baseball bat, for fuck's sake, I'm sure he didn't just happened to find the damn thing just lying around. Hobbs probably had it in his car because he was planning to hurt Justin anyway, I'm sure that Brian's presence had little to do with it. But Brian still feels like it was his fault somehow and I don't know what to say to him anymore, I don't know how to make him feel better.

I'm lying here, in his bed, in the dark, waiting for him to return to bed. I should stand up, go over to him and demand an explanation. I'm tired of this, I'm tired of him waking up in the middle of the night to go look at Justin's picture. I should ask him to stop... but I can't do it. I just can't. I'm afraid of what he might say, I'm afraid because I don't him to choose him over me. And the thought that he might actually do that, makes me even angrier. 

I mean, I'm sorry about Justin too, I liked him, well, I kind of liked him, but he's gone. He's out of our lives and we should move on. Brian can't keep worrying about him.

He's with me now, he should worry only about * us *. He owes that much to me. I broke up with David because of him, because he needed me to be here. I took care of him, I held him while he sat, crying, in that fucking hospital while we waited for the doctor to tell us if Justin was going to live or die. I defended him when Justin's mother tried to blame him for what had happened. I kept him sane, just like I've been doing since we first met. So why can't he be happy with me?

If only I were brave enough to confront him and demand him to choose between Justin and me once and for all.

If only Brian loved me as much as I love him.

If only I could be absolutely sure that Justin will never wake up.


	3. If Only

At first nothing could penetrate the thick veil of darkness that surrounded him. No light, no sound could reach him and that was good. He didn't want anything from the outside to reach him because outside there were things that wanted to hurt him. He didn't want to be hurt anymore. He remembered the pain he'd felt when his whole world exploded around him in millions of bloody pieces. Thankfully, the darkness came and he felt nothing anymore. He felt as if his weightless body was floating in a cold, silent world and he liked it. He made that dark world his home and nothing could make him leave it.

 

But, despite his reticence, things began to change. Little by little the darkness receded and the pain began to return, it wasn't as terrible as before but he still didn't want to feel it. He didn't want to come out of his cocoon, he was safe there, he knew that instinctively. He wanted to be surrounded by the unfeeling darkness forever.

stay in the unfeeling darkness forever. And he would've stayed there, if it weren't for the voice. 

 

The voice that kept begging him to return.

 

That voice was growing louder each day he heard it. He couldn't really understand the words but he knew what the voice was saying.

 

Open your eyes, wake up, come back to me.

 

And, despite the fear and pain he felt, he wanted to follow that voice. It was impossible to ignore it anymore

 

He began to fight desperately as he tried to focus and to will his body to obey him. He wanted to wake up, he needed to wake up. There was something he had to do, something extremely important. There was someone he needed to talk to. He wasn't sure who that someone was but he knew he'd remember if he could just wake up. 

 

He was close, he could feel it. Things seemed brighter now and the sounds weren't as muffled as before. And he didn't feel as if he were floating anymore, he could feel his body now and things had more substance. But he could also feel more pain now and that scared him so much that he almost gave up. He would've allowed himself to fall into the darkness again, but the voice wouldn't let him. It lured him back to the light and the pain, back to life. 

 

Soon, he would open his eyes and he would find the owner of that voice. The voice that willed him to come back day after day and night after night. Soon, he would remember everything.

 

If only he could force his body to hurry up and let him wake up already!

 

 

And then, it happened.

 

There was no warning, no sign that this was going to be the day he'd return to the outside world.

 

It was just another day and he'd been trying to listen to the soft words spoken near him. They were still too muffled for him to understand them, as if the person talking was far away, but he knew, he just * knew * that this wasn't the same voice he'd heard so many times before, the voice that made him want to wake up. 

He was so focused on his task that he too was taken by surprise.

One minute he was straining to hear the words and the next those soft whispers became a deafening roar. Suddenly, he was surrounded by blinding light and the unbearable pain that had been kept at bay by the darkness returned to torment him once again.

 

He tried to fight it, tried to shut out all the painful sensations that were shattering his peaceful world but it was useless, his body had finally decided that it was time for him to wake up.

 

Pain, light and sound came crashing down on him with brutal force. And then came the memories. Those hurt him the most. He tried to fight against the onslaught but his mind was completely defenseless. He remembered. He remembered the reason why he'd been plunged into the darkness.

 

And then, he opened his eyes.


End file.
